


paved with good intentions

by izazov



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Pining, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izazov/pseuds/izazov
Summary: Falling is not a single event but a series of choices. Obi-Wan's Fall begins on Naboo, with a killing blow and a promise.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 743
Collections: Angst Prompts





	paved with good intentions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the combination of two prompts - stolen and deal with the devil - from [this list.](https://angstober.tumblr.com/post/630010568682749952/faq-what-is-angstober-weve-put-together-31) It portrays Obi-Wan in a way that is decidedly not the serene, wise and compassionate Jedi Master we all know and love. There is no underage sex in the story, but Anakin does develop sexual feelings for Obi-Wan as a Padawan, and Obi-Wan finds out about it in a rather unconventional way. Although this fic is somewhat out of my comfort zone, I am happy to have written it. If you decide to give it a try, I hope you will find it enjoyable.

A Jedi should not kill in anger. Should not rejoice in watching life go out of their enemies' eyes. It is the very foundation of what makes one a Jedi.

Obi-Wan knows it. Knows the risks and the cost of diverging from that path. And yet, he cannot deny the frisson of dark, vicious glee that coils low in his gut at the look of stunned surprise in the Sith's hateful yellow eyes when Obi-Wan cuts him in half.

It lasts no more than a moment, swept away by grief and regret as Obi-Wan cradles the head of his fallen Master against his chest, his face wet with tears, while his throat burns with the words left unspoken and his last promise to Qui-Gon.

A splinter of it remains, wedged deep into his very core, festering slowly.

******

Obi-Wan is not ready for a Padawan. He doesn't even want one. 

Still. He kneels in front of Yoda, demanding the right to train Anakin.

His heart is beating wildly, his palms are sweaty, but his shoulders are set in a determined line, and so is his mind.

He had made a promise. And he fully intends to see it through. No matter the consequences. He says as much to Yoda, defiance of his demand cushioned by respectful words and a polite tone.

Yoda is clearly displeased. A sentiment he doesn't bother to hide. He relents, though. Obi-Wan doesn't quite understand _why_ , but he doesn't ask. He bows his head in deference, the relief that floods his senses not enough to banish the dull, persistent ache throbbing in the confines of his ribcage.

******

Anakin is… difficult to handle. Just not in the obvious ways.

Obi-Wan is not surprised by the cultural shock, nor the gaps in Anakin's education. Or the consequences of a life spent in slavery. 

The first two month are… trying. 

Anakin fluctuates from exuberance to wariness; either all but buzzing with excitement or doing his best to appear unseen. He also has trouble connecting with his peers due to the vast difference between their upbringings. But he is also an extremely bright child, determined to fill the gaps in his education. Obi-Wan is… beyond impressed by the speed with which he is progressing.

There is one thing Anakin cannot - or will not, Obi-Wan is not entirely certain yet - accept: letting go of his attachment to his mother. He clings to it devotedly, despite Obi-Wan's reprimands and lectures, keeps it closely guarded, even when the distance between them only brings him pain.

Shaping Anakin into a Jedi Knight will be a daunting task, but Obi-Wan is prepared to give his best - his everything - to fulfill his promise to Qui-Gon. _And_ , subsequently, Anakin as well.

He is not prepared for Anakin latching onto him, with a fierce, single minded focus of a lonely child, craving affection.

******

It begins with touches. 

Brief, fleeting brushes that are easily mistaken as accidental in the beginning. But as time passes, Anakin grows more confident, obviously interpreting Obi-Wan's silence as approval.

Obi-Wan allows it to last two weeks. Two weeks of Anakin taking his hand with his small one at every occasion, of hugging Obi-Wan in lieu of a morning greeting, and falling asleep while leaning on Obi-Wan.

While physical comfort is hardly an anathema to the Jedi, it is the meaning behind Anakin's touches that makes them inappropriate. 

Anakin craves affection - craves love - and had obviously decided to seek it from Obi-Wan. And offer the same in return wholeheartedly. Anakin is… attached to him, his attachment growing stronger by the day, aided by Obi-Wan's reluctance to confront the boy about it.

The situation comes to a head the day Obi-Wan is jolted from sleep by Anakin squirming under the covers with him.

Obi-Wan does not say anything to Anakin that night. He merely directs him - gentle but firm - back to his own bed. Anakin reluctantly obeys, flooding the fledgling bond between them with confusion and hurt, his face wet with tears.

Neither of them sleeps well that night.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan tells him the next day. "You will always have my care, support and aid. But I cannot give you what you seek. It is not the way of the Jedi."

"The Jedi don't love?" 

"We do. But we cannot love selfishly."

Anakin frowns, confusion and defiance written plainly across his face. "How can love be selfish? It's the best feeling in the galaxy." 

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his words. "When you love someone and you place their life above all others, that is loving selfishly. When you place your feelings for that person above your duty, that is loving selfishly. And a Jedi cannot allow himself to be governed by their emotions.That road leads to dark places."

Anakin's face falls, his lower lip trembling. "So I won't ever be a Jedi? Because I'm not good enough?"

Obi-Wan lowers himself into a crouch, grasping Anakin by the shoulders, careful to keep his touch gentle but reassuring. "You will be, I promise you. I will teach you everything you need to know to be a Jedi."

Anakin raises his chin defiantly, despite the wet gleam in his eyes. "Maybe I don't want you to teach me to be a Jedi if that means I can't love anyone."

Obi-Wan sighs. "Anakin, I understand that you have been-"

Anakin pulls away, shaking his head vehemently. "No. I don't care what you say. I know love can't be bad. I know it!"

Obi-Wan blinks, startled by Anakin's vehemence. "Anakin, calm yourself," Obi-Wan orders, rising from a crouch. "You are upsetting everyone in the Temple."

"You do the same. I can feel it _here_ ," Anakin exclaims, touching his temple. His eyes are shining with hurt and defiance, even as tears slide down his cheeks. "You're sad all the time. Sad and lonely."

Obi-Wan goes deathly still, an icy chill slithering down his spine. 

"And so am I," Anakin confesses after a moment, voice barely rising above a whisper. "My Mom used to say that it's easier to be sad in someone else's company than when you're alone. But you don't want company. And you don't want _me_."

Obi-Wan remains frozen in place long after Anakin turns and walks away, the chaos of his thoughts matching the one inside his chest.

******

Anakin is the embodiment of a polite and obedient Padawan for an entire week. 

He listens to everything Obi-Wan says to him, his only response a flat, 'Yes, Master.'

He doesn't attempt to engage Obi-Wan in conversation, nor to touch him, all the while bleeding misery and hurt through his rudimentary shields.

Obi-Wan is balancing between frustration and patience, sometimes even helplessness, but above all else, he finds himself missing _Anakin._

He misses the boy's exuberance and enthusiasm, his incessant questions, and the comfort of his presence by his side.

There is a hole inside Obi-Wan's heart, and no amount of meditation or self-reflection is helping him mend it.

Obi-Wan is... not unaware of the irony - or the inherent dangers - of having grown attached to Anakin when it is the very same thing he had warned him against. 

A week after their disagreement, Obi-Wan finds himself standing in Anakin's room, the boy studying him with a wary gaze.

"Your Mother was right," Obi-Wan says without preamble, fully aware of going against everything he had been taught. "But you were not. I do appreciate your company, Anakin. And I would like you to remain my Padawan, if you still want _me_ as your Master."

Anakin stays silent for one long moment. Then, he launches himself at Obi-Wan, wrapping his arms tightly around Obi-Wan's waist, and burrowing his face into Obi-Wan's tunic.

"I don't want anyone else," Anakin mutters, his words muffled by the soft fabric, but his joy is a clear and bright thing, surrounding the boy like a simmering halo. "Only you."

Obi-Wan smiles, carding his fingers into Anakin's hair, feeling the hole inside his heart close as the missing piece slots into place.

"Then you shall have me. As long as you need me."

Anakin pulls away slightly, looking up at Obi-Wan hopefully. "Always?"

Obi-Wan nods. "Always."

******

Obi-Wan keeps his word. 

He pours all his knowledge into guiding Anakin on the road to Knighthood. His knowledge, his time, his dedication; all Anakin's, all freely given. 

But there is one thing that Anakin values above all else, even above praise, which he soaks up with a greedy delight: Obi-Wan's love.

That, too, is freely given. 

Their bond flourishes, strengthening each day. And if other Jedi frown at it, warn Obi-Wan of the dangers of attachment, Obi-Wan accepts their counsel with a respectful bow and a polite word.

And does absolutely nothing about it. 

Anakin is _his_ Padawan, his responsibility. No one else gets to decide on his training. Or meddle in their relationship.

Not Yoda, or the entire High Council. Not even the Chancellor, for all his insistence.

Only Obi-Wan. Just as Anakin had asked and Obi-Wan had promised.

******

Anakin is fourteen when Obi-Wan kills a man in cold blood, his rage not a burning inferno robbing him of thought and focus, but a river of ice, flowing through his veins, and erasing even the last shred of compassion and mercy.

"You are a Jedi," the man's voice cracks, entirely void of his previous arrogance. Obi-Wan watches as he backs into a corner, his blaster falling from a trembling hand. Distantly, Obi-Wan recalls meeting him for the first time, recalls the smug expression as Obi-Wan bowed before him, saying his name with respect he had never deserved. Now, his name no longer matters, already fading from Obi-Wan's mind, leaving nothing but a cold, hard truth of Anakin's capture. "You don't kill unarmed prisoners."

Obi-Wan knows by heart the crimes of this man, knows his cruelty, and his depravity. Knows, also, that he would have spared him, given him over to the authorities, had he not dared to go after Anakin.

Obi-Wan can feel his mouth curl over his teeth, the hum of his lightsaber not enough to drown out the man's pathetic whimpers.

"You should not have touched my Padawan," he says, voice perfectly calm. Then, he swings his lightsaber.

Later, he finds Anakin in one of the cells underneath the main building. His Padawan is dirty, bruised, and there is a collar around his neck that keeps him barred from the Force. And from Obi-Wan.

Briefly, Obi-Wan regrets having killed the man as quickly and cleanly as he had. But those thoughts disappear quickly, replaced by more important matters. Such as getting that accursed thing from Anakin's neck and taking him as far from this place as possible.

"I knew you were going to come for me, Master," Anakin whispers into the cradle of Obi-Wan's shoulder, gripping Obi-Wan's robes in a white-knuckled grip. "I never doubted it."

Obi-Wan continues tracing soothing circles across Anakin's back, basking in the familiar blazing light of Anakin's Force signature, the almost unbearable weight lifting off his chest for the first time since Anakin's disappearance.

"I made you a promise, did I not? I will always be there for you."

Anakin raises his head, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. "I'll save _you_ one day, Master. You'll see. I'll be more powerful than Master Windu."

Obi-Wan smiles, his chest tight with a swell of emotions. "I am certain you will, Anakin. _And_ you will be insufferable about it."

******

Sometimes, Obi-Wan dreams of his Master. 

He no longer dreams of red energy barriers, or a sneering face of a Sith. No longer dreams of helplessness and grief and regret.

Now, Obi-Wan's dreams are worse. Infinitely worse.

"What do you want from me?!" Obi-Wan demands from Qui-Gon's still, translucent figure, bathed in a blue glow. Something vicious and angry gnaws at his sternum, demanding to be set loose. "I know I have failed you."

"You haven't failed me, Padawan," Qui-Gon says, his words heavy with sorrow. 

"Then why won't you leave me alone? Why haunt my dreams?"

"I came to warn you. You are walking a dangerous path, Obi-Wan. Turn back while you still can. Your attachment to Anakin has made you compromised."

"You wanted me to train Anakin," Obi-Wan exclaims, incredulous. Something shifts in the back of his mind. An awareness that does not belong to a dream. "You practically forced me to take him on."

Qui-Gon's figure flickers, fading briefly. "I know. And I am sorry. I shouldn't have placed that burden on your shoulders."

"Anakin is not a burden," Obi-Wan forces through clenched teeth, his fingers curling inwards.

Qui-Gon's brow creases into a frown. "Listen, Obi-Wan. You must let someone else train Anakin. Before-"

"Never," Obi-Wan growls, something dark and cold gathering around his clenched fingers. "Anakin is _my_ Padawan. And you are nothing more than a memory."

Qui-Gon's eyes widen with panic. "Please, Obi-Wan, look at what-"

"Leave me," Obi-Wan rasps, clenching his fist tighter. "And never bother me again."

Qui-Gon's figure trembles, then dissolves entirely, his last desperate cry of Obi-Wan's name jolting Obi-Wan from sleep.

Obi-Wan pushes himself into a sitting position, breathing shallowly, his right hand clenched into a tight fist. He stares at it for a long moment, remembering an icy, oily sensation coiling around his fingers, like dipping his hand into a frozen murk.

He heaves a long breath, forcing his fingers to loosen, the images from his dream fading quickly, leaving behind an ashen taste at the back of his throat.

"Master?" Anakin's voice, thick with sleep and concern, drifts from the doorway. "Are you okay? I sensed you were in turmoil."

"I," Obi-Wan rasps, pauses, then takes another long, calming breath. It fails in its desired effect, but at least it steadies his voice. "I am fine now, Anakin. Go back to sleep."

Obi-Wan cannot see Anakin's expression in the gloom of the room, but he can feel him rolling his eyes. An annoying habit that Anakin has acquired as of late, designed to test Obi-Wan's patience.

"You do remember I have direct access to your head," Anakin remarks, doing the opposite of what Obi-Wan had told him. "And I know your definition of fine, Master."

Obi-Wan drags a hand across his face, watching Anakin's approach with a wary gaze. "A fact I have come to regret," Obi-Wan says, grabbing Anakin's wrist when he reaches for the covers, his intention clear. "What are you doing?"

Anakin sighs exaggeratedly. "You were having a nightmare that has probably woken half the Temple. I'm trying to help."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says, fond and exasperated all at once. "You are too old to be sleeping in my bed. And I am too old to be woken by you kicking me in the shins every half an hour."

"Master, be reasonable. You know neither of us will sleep if I leave now. And I have a really important examination tomorrow, and it-"

Obi-Wan lifts his free hand, staving off Anakin's further rambling. "Very well, you may sleep here tonight." He lets go of Anakin's hand, shifting back to make room for his stubborn Padawan. "But this is the last time, Anakin. Even if the price is you failing all your courses."

"Of course, Master," Anakin agrees, sliding under the covers, and promptly sidling up to Obi-Wan. He nestles his head in the crook of Obi-Wan's shoulder, sighing with contentment. "Whatever you say, Master."

Obi-Wan frowns at the top of Anakin's head even as he curves an arm around Anakin's shoulders. At fifteen, Anakin is a gangly teenager, long-limbed and coltish, but Obi-Wan has a sinking feeling that soon enough he will be the shorter one of the two of them. 

"Why do I get the feeling you are not taking my words seriously?"

"Shush, Master," Anakin replies, snuggling closer. "Sleep now. I'm here to watch over you."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then closes it without saying a word, a soft smile playing on his lips as he allows his eyes to close.

He doesn't dream of Qui-Gon again that night. Or any other night afterward.

******

Anakin is sixteen when his feelings toward Obi-Wan… change.

At first, Obi-Wan does not notice the shift. Not consciously, at least.

Anakin remains a handful; willful and strong-minded, and growing increasingly powerful in the Force, keeping Obi-Wan constantly on his toes.

If Anakin's gaze lingers a bit too long on Obi-Wan's mouth, or he becomes sullen and agitated when Obi-Wan interacts a bit more… amiably with other people, Obi-Wan dismisses it as a passing phase, quite normal for teenagers.

The first real sign that something is wrong, comes in the form of Anakin shielding a part of his thoughts. Heavy, air-tight shields, without a slightest crack.

It shouldn't bother Obi-Wan. The need for privacy is perfectly natural. After all, it is not like there are no hidden nooks and crannies within his own mind, carefully hidden from everyone. Including Anakin.

It shouldn't. But it does.

Obi-Wan is used to the transparency of Anakin's thoughts and emotions. Even if their intensity sometimes verges into overwhelming.

He doesn't… appreciate this new development. Doesn't appreciate the barriers between them.

Obi-Wan is not proud of it, but there are moments when he entertaines the thought of… sliding past Anakin's shields. He could do it. Anakin may be stronger when it comes to raw power, but Obi-Wan is more experienced, and mind manipulation has always been a forte of his.

Obi-Wan doesn't, resisting temptation each time it rises to taunt him. 

And then he discovers the truth, entirely by accident.

Obi-Wan returns from a brief solo assignment to find Anakin sleeping in his bed, face contorted into a grimace, panting heavily.

Obi-Wan's displeasure at Anakin's antics morphs into concern, and when he places his fingers against Anakin's temple, connecting their minds, he expects to find Anakin in the throes of a nightmare.

Nightmare is not what he sees. At least, not Anakin's nightmare.

Stunned into complete stillness, Obi-Wan finds himself watching Anakin, lying naked on his back, face contorted with pleasure as Obi-Wan's dream counterpart thrusts into him, hips snapping roughly, his face buried into Anakin's neck.

Obi-Wan's thoughts scatter, turning to white noise, and it is only a low, hoarse moan that tears from Anakin's throat that finally snaps Obi-Wan out of his daze.

Obi-Wan pulls out of Anakin's mind as if scalded, almost tripping over his own feet in his rush to get away from Anakin's sleeping form, his heart racing wildly, his throat dry as a desert.

He goes to the fresher, splashing cold water against his heated skin, trying but failing miserably to silence the echo of Anakin's dream voice, moaning his name.

******

It is a passing fancy, Obi-Wan tells himself in the coming months.

A harmless crush Anakin will outgrow soon enough.

Nothing unusual. Anakin is hardly the first Padawan to have occasional lustful thoughts about their Master.

Anakin feels strongly and passionately, his attachment to Obi-Wan is… confusing him. Shaping his affection into a wrong form.

But it will pass.

It _will._

It has to. 

******

It doesn't pass.

******

When Anakin is seventeen, he attempts to kiss Obi-Wan.

From a certain point of view, it is Obi-Wan's fault for flirting with the Princess, knowing how possessive Anakin is, how prone to jealousy.

But the real fault lies in Obi-Wan's silence, in his cowardice to face the issue head on. In his reluctance to put a stop to it once and for all.

Anakin corners him once they are behind the closed doors of their joint bedroom, pushing Obi-Wan against the nearest wall and bracketing him with his arms.

Anakin's breath smells like the sweet wine they had been served during dinner, his eyes glazed over with lust as well as drunken haze. And for one brief, mindless moment, Obi-Wan cannot help but wonder how the wine would taste directly from Anakin's lips.

He stifles that thought almost immediately, grabbing Anakin firmly by the shoulders, holding him back.

"No, Anakin." 

Anakin's face twists with confusion which turns into hurt which turns into petulance.

"Why not?" Anakin demands. "What can she give you that I can't?"

Obi-Wan squares Anakin with a flat look. "If I were to list all the reasons why this is a truly catastrophic idea, we will not have left this room for an entire day."

"I'm willing to settle for a night."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, drawing on his reserves of patience. "You are my Padawan, Anakin. My underage Padawan. I have already broken far too many rules by allowing our relationship to become much stronger than it should have been. I am not willing to break another one. Especially not _this_ one."

Anakin's eyes flash triumphantly. "You have said plenty, but you haven't said that you don't want me, Master."

Obi-Wan barely suppresses a wince at Anakin's use of the title, guilt and shame coalescing into a heavy weight inside his chest. He fixes Anakin with a steady gaze, his voice perfectly calm in its delivery. "I don't want you, Anakin."

Anakin's face falls for a second, an expression of near childlike hurt contorting his features. "That's a lie," Anakin says a moment later, his lower lip wobbling despite the stubborn set of his jaw. 

Obi-Wan swallows a sigh, suddenly aware of the compromising nature of their current position. They would not cause a scandal, were they to be seen in this position, but Obi-Wan does not need even a hint of… _this_ to reach the Temple. He is already threading on thin ice with the Council as it is. Were he less of an asset to them, or Anakin more of a problem, Obi-Wan suspects they would have separated them already.

And that is something Obi-Wan will not allow. _Never._

"Your refusal to accept the truth does not make it any less true," Obi-Wan says, keeping his voice level. He wants nothing more than to pull Anakin into a hug, and drive away his hurt with a gentle touch, like he'd always done. But he cannot. Anakin will latch onto it, take it the wrong way, only prolonging his infatuation. "Now let me pass."

For a single moment, Obi-Wan cannot tell whether or not Anakin will obey him. Obi-Wan can feel him go tense, suddenly aware that Anakin is no longer that little boy who fit perfectly in the cradle of Obi-Wan's arms. He is turning into a man, already grown past Obi-Wan's height, his shoulders wide and strong, and his face promising a devastating beauty.

"Are you going to see her?" Anakin demands, eyes narrowing.

Obi-Wan is tempted to say yes, if for no other reason than the way his heart had stuttered briefly, something hot coiling low in his gut. 

"I am going for a walk," Obi-Wan says instead, giving Anakin a pointed look. "And I suggest you think long and hard on your behavior, Padawan. I would suggest meditation, but that would only put you to sleep."

Anakin regards him carefully for a prolonged moment, his mental touch careful but insistent. 

"Run if that's what you want," Anakin says finally, taking a step back. "But this isn't over. I know you feel the same, and I'm willing to wait until you're ready to give me a chance. To give _us_ a chance."

Obi-Wan pushes away from the door, ignoring the solemnity of Anakin's words, refusing the weight of truth clinging to them.

"You have many talents, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, striding past Anakin on his way to the door. "But no patience to speak of."

Anakin's reply catches him at the door, making him almost falter in his stride.

"I'll find patience," Anakin promises, quiet but resolute. "For this, for _you_ , I will find it."

Obi-Wan doesn't reply, merely exits the room, the sound of Anakin's parting words reverberating inside his mind with each step he takes.

******

Anakin - somehow, impossibly - finds patience.

After his first failed attempt at seduction, he does not try again.

But he keeps looking at Obi-Wan with unveiled want whenever they are alone. Lowers the shields that he had erected to hide his feelings from Obi-Wan.

Anakin doesn't say anything out loud, but there is a constant litany of _see me, want me, love me_ , echoing inside Obi-Wan's mind, gnawing at his patience and control.

The tension between them builds, and builds, and builds, until Obi-Wan can almost taste Anakin's want at the back of his throat. Can almost feel the weight of Anakin's gaze upon his skin.

And then Padmé Amidala re-enters their lives.

******

They are barely back from Ansion when - at Chancellor's insistence - they are assigned to protect Senator Amidala, after an attempt on her life.

Obi-Wan has never held a particularly high opinion of Chancellor Palpatine, mostly due to his repeated attempts at getting closer to Anakin during his boyhood. Attempts that have failed each and every time, met with Obi-Wan's unwavering resolve. He still tries, but those occasions are becoming increasingly rare. 

Introducing Padmé back into Anakin's life had done nothing to endear Palpatine to Obi-Wan. Quite the opposite.

Obi-Wan has nothing against the young Senator. What he recalls of her during that fateful assignment years ago, paints her in favorable light. 

Even now, as a politician, Senator Amidala continues to display strong will and passion for her beliefs. There is a certain naivete to her, but it seems to be born of idealism rather than lack of intelligence.

Obi-Wan cannot find fault with Padmé Amidala. But with every besotted, beaming gaze Anakin sends her way, with each awkward flattery that falls from Anakin's lips, Obi-Wan cannot help but wish that she had stayed out of their lives.

Obi-Wan keeps a facade of calm and serenity during the entire meeting, but inside him is a vicious, snarling beast, clawing at his chest: angry and hurt, demanding to be let loose.

Obi-Wan almost slips one second. 

Usually, Obi-Wan has no trouble keeping a tight control over his feelings. Today, it cracks briefly, the image of Padmé brushing her fingers against Anakin's braid sends a jolt of something fiercely possessive through Obi-Wan, but he manages to stop himself from doing anything… unsound.

Anakin doesn't notice Obi-Wan's misstep, too engrossed with the Senator, but there is one brief moment in which Obi-Wan is certain Palpatine's eyes rest on him with cold, calculating interest. 

But the moment passes, slipping from Obi-Wan's mind, his attention entirely occupied by Anakin and the Senator, feeling as if he is slowly but surely losing Anakin.

******

"You're brooding, Master," Anakin remarks, grinning half-heartedly. "It's quite a fetching look on you."

Obi-Wan opens his mouth, then swallows the sharp retort that he'd meant to say. Frowning, he regards the paleness of Anakin's cheeks and the dark circles around his eyes, the nervous twitch of his fingers, feeling a wash of shame and guilt flood his senses.

"Are you thinking about those dreams?" Obi-Wan enquires softly. Two weeks ago, Anakin had started having dreams of his Mother. Dreams of pain and suffering, from which he would wake shivering and gasping for breath, seeking comfort in Obi-Wan's arms.

Neither of them had had a restful night since that first night. And now those dreams are plaguing Anakin's waking hours. And instead of helping Anakin, Obi-Wan is preoccupied with petty jealousy.

As if Anakin shifting his romantic feelings from Obi-Wan to Padmé is not the perfect - and temporary - solution to their… situation.

Anakin nods, the grin slipping from his lips. "They are getting worse," he rasps, voice laden with naked fear. He expels a sharp breath, giving Obi-Wan a pleading look. "Master, I need to go to her. I think- I _know_ something terrible will happen if I don't."

Obi-Wan inhales deeply, discarding an empty platitude that springs to his mind. "We will take care of it, Anakin. I promise you."

Anakin grabs hold of Obi-Wan's hand, hope shining brightly from his eyes. "You promise? We will go to Tatooine?"

Obi-Wan doesn't have time to answer as the assassin chooses that moment to make their move, and all hell breaks loose.

******

Obi-Wan is starting to… dislike their current assignment with a degree unbefitting a Jedi.

And there is no way for him to extract both himself and Anakin out of it. Nor to have their roles exchanged.

Obi-Wan will follow the trail of the assassin's dart, and Anakin will escort Senator Amidala back to her home planet.

It makes sense. Obi-Wan is by far more experienced in investigative work, and by giving Anakin the role of Padmé's escort, the Council has finally shown they are willing to consider Obi-Wan's recommendation regarding Anakin's Trials. To intervene now would mean to undo his own efforts of the past six months.

And yet… Obi-Wan considers it, briefly; his chest constricting painfully at the thought of Anakin and Padmé alone together, far from everything and everyone.

Far from Obi-Wan.

"I can't go, Master," Anakin says, grabbing Obi-Wan by the hand and hauling him to a relatively private place after their airbus had landed. His eyes are nearly wild, his grip almost painful."I want to protect Padmé and I don't want to fail you, or the Council for giving me this task, but I need to go to Tatooine."

Obi-Wan frowns, at the same time relieved and deeply concerned. If Anakin does something rash, he will not get a chance to take the Trials for at least a year. And what is worse, it will only strengthen the Council's low opinion of Obi-Wan's… lax approach to Anakin's training.

"Anakin, you do not have a choice," Obi-Wan says. He had not intended to reveal it to Anakin yet, but there is no choice now. "I have recommended you for the Trials. This mission will help the Council decide whether or not you are ready."

A burst of pride and joy alights Anakin's eyes, but it dims quickly, Anakin's expression turning unusually solemn. "I have always wanted to make you proud, Master. To be the best Jedi I could be," Anakin says, bringing Obi-Wan's hand up to his mouth and kissing it softly. "But I cannot do this. Not if the cost is my Mother."

Obi-Wan swallows thickly, watching helplessly as Anakin lets go of his hand and takes a step back, his heart twisting inside his chest. 

"I'll go," Obi-Wan says, the words spilling out of his mouth on a rush of breath.

Anakin blinks. "What?"

Obi-Wan drags an unsteady hand across his face, his mind already making plans and calculating routes. "I will go."

"But your mission? And the Council?"

"I won't compromise my mission," Obi-Wan says, smiling with far more reassurance than is warranted. "As for the Council…" Obi-Wan's smile turns wry, his hand sketching a dismissive gesture. "It is not as if they will ever give me a seat among them. There is nothing I fear from them."

Anakin blinks, staring at Obi-Wan with naked wonder and adoration. "You would do that for me?"

Obi-Wan crosses the space between them, cupping the back of Anakin's neck and bringing their foreheads together. 

For just one moment, Obi-Wan allows the Jedi, the Republic, the whole blasted galaxy, to fade to the background, the entire reality narrowing down to just the two of them.

"Oh, Anakin," Obi-Wan whispers, his voice trembling slightly as he finally accepts the truth that is burning inside his heart: he loves Anakin. Loves him wholly, passionately, without reserve or restraint, more than his oaths, more than his honor. More than anything. "There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

******

Anakin had been right. 

When Obi-Wan finds Anakin's mother - now free and married to a moisture farmer - she is barely clinging to life. Had Obi-Wan been even a day late, he might not have found her among the living.

"Shmi," Obi-Wan whispers, placing a gentle hand on her bruised cheek. "I am a friend of your son. I am here to help you."

"Ani?" she rasps, pain radiating from her in thick waves. 

"Yes, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, his voice gentle despite something cold and hard gathering inside his chest. How many times had he seen this very same scene? And how many times he had to turn away, doing nothing? "I need you to trust me now, Shmi. I will put you to sleep and help you with the pain. Then I will get you out."

"Tell Ani- I love him," Shmi manages to utter, grasping Obi-Wan's hand with desperate strength.

"You will tell him yourself, I promise you. Now, _sleep._ "

Despite the viciousness of their crime, Obi-Wan means not to engage the Tuskens.

But chance intervenes.

"You deserve no mercy," Obi-Wan tells the Tuskens surrounding him, carefully placing Shmi's unconscious body down on the ground. He doesn't know whether they understand him. And in the deepest, truest part of himself, he doesn't particularly care. "But I will grant it to you if you allow us to leave."

He fixes the nearest Tusken with a steady gaze, shifting into battle stance. "Life or death. The choice is yours."

They choose death.

When Obi-Wan leaves the camp, Shmi carefully tucked against his chest, there is not a single Tusken warrior left alive in the camp. Only women and children.

******

After Obi-Wan leaves Tatooine, the galaxy spirals into chaos. 

It is not unlike watching dominoes fall. One event follows another, which in turn follows another, until everything spins out of control, leading to a galaxy wide war.

And Obi-Wan finds himself right in the middle of it.

Shackled to a pole, awaiting death, Obi-Wan is prepared to become one with the Force. Prepared yes. But he is not without regrets. 

And each regret bears Anakin's name.

And then Anakin and Senator Amidala are being led into the arena and shackled next to Obi-Wan, and all Obi-Wan wants is to burn this entire wretched planet to the ground.

******

They survive. 

At the cost of almost two hundred of their brothers and sisters.

At the cost of the galaxy plunging into war.

But as Obi-Wan wraps his hands around Anakin's shoulders, trembling with relief, he cannot bring himself to care.

"You're alive. You're alive. You're alive," Anakin mumbles into the side of Obi-Wan's face, clutching at him desperately, but Obi-Wan knows what Anakin is really saying.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

******

They almost stop Dooku, thus preventing the war.

They fail.

_Obi-Wan_ fails. Fails miserably.

And Anakin loses his hand.

******

Obi-Wan stands in the doorway, watching as Anakin tries out his new prosthetic under Master Che's careful gaze; guilt and shame a heavy weight inside his chest.

But there is something else… something dark and cold, buried deep inside Obi-Wan's soul, waiting patiently for its moment.

"A fine Jedi, young Skywalker will be."

Obi-Wan blinks, dragging his thoughts away from dangerous places.

"Master." Obi-Wan bows respectfully, unable to stifle a flash of pride at Yoda's words. 

Yoda stares at Obi-Wan silently, his expression utterly unreadable. "Wrong we have been. Wrong I have been."

Obi-Wan blinks, stunned by Yoda's admission, utterly at a loss for words.

"In two weeks, Knight young Skywalker will become." Yoda cranes his neck, his eyes boring into Obi-Wan's. "Cut his braid you will, Master Kenobi."

******

Anakin is… stalking him, there is no other word for it, taking a purposeful step forward for each step Obi-Wan takes in the opposite direction.

Tall, lithe, his mouth curved into a grin, he looks like a nexu hunting his prey.

When Obi-Wan takes the last step back, his back hitting the wall, Obi-Wan arches an eyebrow, giving Anakin an amused look. "I seem to recall a similar situation," Obi-Wan says when Anakin leans his forearms on either side of Obi-Wan's head, effectively caging him in. "It didn't get you what you wanted."

Anakin merely grins, leaning forward to nuzzle Obi-Wan's cheek. "I think my luck is about to change," Anakin murmurs, lips brushing Obi-Wan's earlobe.

"What makes you so certain?" Obi-Wan asks, voice calm despite the way his every cell aches for Anakin's touch. And touching him in return.

Anakin turns his head, bumping their noses playfully before pulling away, his eyes twin blue flames burning for Obi-Wan.

"I am not your underage Padawan anymore," Anakin murmurs as he leans forward, stopping a mere breath away from Obi-Wan's mouth. "And I could feel your jealousy for Padmé."

Obi-Wan shakes his head, joy and love building inside his chest it nearly feels like pain.

"You are awfully confident, Anakin," Obi-Wan says in a low voice, fingers twitching from the effort of keeping still. 

"Well," Anakin husks, his breath warm against Obi-Wan's face."I learned it from my Master."

Obi-Wan's breath hitches in his throat when Anakin closes the distance between them, pressing his thigh against the growing bulge in Obi-Wan's pants.

"You are playing dirty, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, voice strained.

Anakin drags his teeth across the pulse point in Obi-Wan's neck. "I'm playing to win."

Obi-Wan arches his neck, giving Anakin better access. "And what- What do you want?"

With a last soft kiss, Anakin pulls away from Obi-Wan's neck, bringing their foreheads together. "You, Master. Just you."

"Obi-Wan," Obi-Wan says, voice heated as his control finally snaps, his fingers gripping Anakin by the back of his neck and pulling his head down. "Not Master. Call me by my name."

" _Obi-Wan_ ," Anakin sighs, a second before Obi-Wan brings their lips together.

******

The first time Obi-Wan pushes inside Anakin, it feels almost too much; as if all his nerve endings are sparking with pure, visceral bliss, and only a part of it is his. Their bond is entirely open, overflowing with pleasure and need and want and _love_. 

Obi-Wan bows his head, resting his forehead against Anakin's, breathing harshly from the effort of keeping still, his fingers gripping the covers tightly.

Obi-Wan might have found it amusing, had he any thought left to spare: an entire life devoted to self-control and temperance, all of it unraveling at the feeling of how warm and tight Anakin is.

How… perfect.

"I dreamt of this, you know," Anakin murmurs, pawing at Obi-Wan's shoulders, his back, his waist. As if he wanted to touch all of Obi-Wan, all at once. "So many times."

Obi-Wan swallows back a groan as Anakin shifts experimentally underneath him, unable to stop himself from rocking forward, dragging a moan out of Anakin's throat.

Lifting his head, Obi-Wan stares at Anakin's face, open and relaxed despite the grooves in the skin of Obi-Wan's back, left in the wake of Anakin's roaming fingers. And the tight clench of his legs around Obi-Wan's hips, as if he means to draw him even further inside himself.

"And how does reality compare to your dreams?" Obi-Wan teases, but his voice comes out far too breathless. Far too revealing.

Anakin's mouth curves into a smug smirk as he clenches around Obi-Wan's length. The groan that leaves Obi-Wan's mouth sounds nearly obscene.

"I'll tell you once you actually _move_."

A huff of laughter slips past Obi-Wan's lips. "As you wish," he says, rocking his hips.

Again, and again, and again.

******

The war is mud and rain and ice and heat.

It is ration bars and hard cots.

It is blood and sweat and pain and death.

And a seemingly endless slog through scores of battle droids.

But it is also the heat of Anakin's mouth and the warmth of his body. 

It is the curve of Anakin's smile against Obi-Wan's naked chest, and the drag of his teeth across Obi-Wan's neck.

The war is brutal, ugly, and seemingly never ending.

And yet.

Obi-Wan has never been happier.

******

"It wasn't your fault."

Obi-Wan blinks up at Anakin hazily, reluctant to sacrifice even a small amount of focus to anything beside the warm, languid feeling of lying on a soft bed, his head pillowed on Anakin's lap, knowing there is no immediate danger or emergency looming on the horizon. 

At least for today. As for tomorrow… for once, Obi-Wan doesn't care about tomorrow. Just this moment; simple and easy, unburdened by their duties and responsibilities.

_What if_ , a soft voice whispers from the back of his mind, _this were your life? Today, tomorrow, always._

Obi-Wan stifles that thought, locks it away, even though he knows it will return, louder and more insistent: again and again, until silencing it becomes impossible.

But not yet, not with the war still raging across the galaxy.

"What wasn't my fault?" Obi-Wan inquires almost lazily, his attention split between the curve of Anakin's smile and the fingers running through his hair.

Anakin's glance flicks pointedly at his gloved hand, caught between Obi-Wan's fingers in a careful, almost reverent hold.

Obi-Wan goes still, the languid mood from the moment before dissipating, replaced by something cold and harsh. 

Carefully, Obi-Wan lets go of Anakin's hand. He sits up, swinging his legs off the bed. He rests his elbows on his knees, hunching forward.

"I should have protected you," Obi-Wan says, voice perfectly blank, even as his fingers curl, the image of Dooku's smugly arrogant face flickering before his mind's eye. "You were still my Padawan. It had been my duty to protect you."

There is a rustle of fabric as Anakin shifts on the bed, followed by hands wrapping around Obi-Wan's naked chest.

"I was reckless and impatient," Anakin whispers, placing a soft kiss on the pulse point on Obi-Wan's neck. "You tried to warn me, but I didn't listen."

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth twitched. "Are you actually admitting to being at fault?"

Anakin huffs out a laugh, brushing his lips against Obi-Wan's clavicle. "Don't get used to it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Obi-Wan says, leaning back against Anakin. His eyes drift shut as he empties his mind of everything that isn't the feel of skin against skin, their bond pulsating with warmth. "I love you, Anakin."

Anakin freezes suddenly, his shock echoing through the Force as he pulls away from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes, concerned. "Anakin?" Obi-Wan turns, cradling Anakin's face between his hands. "What is wrong?"

Anakin blinks, looking dazed. "You love me."

"Yes," Obi-Wan says, perplexed. "Of course I do. You couldn't have missed it. Even without our bond."

"Yes, but it's different hearing you say it out loud," Anakin says, his eyes glowing with pure, unadulterated joy and wonder. "I like it."

"I- I have never said it before?"

Anakin shakes his head, looking almost bashful. "Not in those words, no."

Obi-Wan's mouth curves into a grin as he tips Anakin down on the bed, covering his body with his own. "Well then," he murmurs, leaning to brush their lips together. "I suppose I'll have to make it up to you."

******

"I don't like this."

Obi-Wan swallows a sigh, wishing more than anything to wrap Anakin into a hug. To kiss the anxiety off his face.

But he cannot. Not out in the open.

"I am not happy with this either, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, keeping a tight lid on his own tremulous feelings. "We've been on separate assignments before. This one will be no different."

Anakin's brow creases, a pained expression passing over his features as he grasps Obi-Wan's wrist in a desperate hold. "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave _you_."

Obi-Wan flicks a careful glance at their surroundings, then proceeds to pry Anakin's fingers off of his wrist, taking a step back.

The wounded look in Anakin's eyes feels like a stab to the chest.

"We will be together soon, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, grasping Anakin's shoulder briefly, his eyes flicking toward Anakin's neck, viscerally satisfied with the knowledge of a bruise he had left there previous night, now hidden beneath the layers of Anakin's robe. Almost as satisfying as the slight burn of similar marks along his own body, matching perfectly the outline of Anakin's fingers and mouth. "I promise you."

Anakin swallows thickly, his eyes burning with a myriad of feelings. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

"And I you, dear one," Obi-Wan replies. "May the Force be with you."

"And you, Master," Anakin says.

Then, without another word, he turns and strides away.

******

Three days after his departure from Coruscant, Anakin goes missing.

And something deep inside Obi-Wan's very soul shatters irrevocably.

******

"Anakin is alive," Obi-Wan states with as much calm as he can muster with his heart feeling like an open wound. "I am certain of it."

Once, Obi-Wan had entertained thoughts about being awarded a seat in this very room. Now, those thoughts seem very far, and unimportant.

Unimportant like everything else in the whole blasted galaxy. Except finding Anakin and getting him back.

Mace Windu regards him with a steady, assessing gaze. "And what makes you so certain, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan hesitates only a fraction of a moment. "Our bond. It is muted, not torn. I can still feel Anakin's presence."

Windu's mouth tightens into a flat, disapproving line but it is not he who answers.

"Should not exist, your bond," Yoda's voice drifts from where he stands by the window, regarding Obi-Wan with a deep frown of disappointment and wariness. Years ago, Yoda's disappointment would have… mattered. Now it is only an obstacle. "Broken, it should have been. Know better, you should have."

Obi-Wan flicks a glance at Yoda, setting his shoulders. "Regardless of my transgression, the bond is now a proof. Undisputed proof that Anakin still lives."

"Blinded by your attachment, you are," Yoda accuses, punctuating the words with his gimmer stick. "Unworthy of a Master."

Obi-Wan bows his head briefly. But not out of deference or shame. 

"If that is the will of the Council, I accept it," Obi-Wan says in a steady voice. "But is it also the will of the Council to abandon one of their own without even trying to save him? Has Anakin not done enough to warrant an investigation at least?"

Obi-Wan pauses, fixing Yoda with a pointed gaze. "Is he not the Chosen One?"

"Hmphh," Yoda scoffs. "Never before have you cared for the Prophecy."

"And this Council used to care more for their own," Obi-Wan states, sharper than perhaps is wise. "Are there not enough dead Jedi already?"

"You are dangerously close to crossing a line, Kenobi," Mace Windu interjects, his voice more weary than anything else. "But you are right. The Chosen One or no, Skywalker deserves a proper investigation of his disappearance. The Force feels… conflicted about it."

Glancing briefly at Yoda, Windu squares Obi-Wan with an unwavering stare. "You have two months, Kenobi. After that, you are to assume your current position within the GAR. As for your title, consider yourself on very thin ice."

Bowing deeply, Obi-Wan swallows a relieved sigh, his mind already calculating his next steps.

"Two months you have, Master Kenobi," Yoda's voice reaches Obi-Wan nearly at the massive doors to the Council Chamber. "Then a decision you will need to make. Whether a Jedi you remain, or not."

Obi-Wan's steps falter for a single moment. And a single moment only.

******

Obi-Wan is... not proud of the steps he takes in his investigation.

He is aware how far beyond the line of what is acceptable for a Jedi he has strayed.

Just as he is aware how much further he is willing to go to have Anakin back.

******

Two months pass, and Obi-Wan is no closer to finding Anakin than he had been at the start of his investigation.

There is one lead, though. One name: Asajj Ventress. And that, ultimately, means _Dooku_.

******

Obi-Wan dreams of Anakin. 

Dreams of hands on his skin, of hot breath ghosting across his navel, of a teasing smile and clear blue eyes.

He also dreams of pained cries and rattling of chains, the stench of blood lingering even after he wakes, gasping for breath and trembling.

******

When he returns to Coruscant, Obi-Wan assumes his role as Jedi and General.

But he knows - in the deepest part of himself - that he is no Jedi, not anymore. Not with everything he had already done. And what he is prepared to do.

But he stays, and fights, and bleeds, and kills, and destroys.

But not out of loyalty to the Order but because he needs to find Dooku. Find him and… well. Make him reap what he had sown.

And for _that_ , he needs to remain a Jedi.

******

Obi-Wan is… losing himself.

Day by day, bit by bit, parts of him - mercy, compassion, kindness, patience - are eroding steadily, blurring once clear lines between good and evil, right and wrong.

There is a yawning abyss of longing, desperation and need inside him that nothing can fill.

Obi-Wan is aware of Cody's increasingly worried gazes as he makes his way through the enemies' forces with efficient brutality.

Only one thing remains a source of comfort for Obi-Wan, a fixed point of hope and light as he slowly descends into darkness: the constant, however muted, presence at the back of his mind.

_Anakin's_ presence.

******

There is a saying that adversity makes strange bedfellows.

Obi-Wan finds out just how true that saying is after Anakin's disappearance.

After Obi-Wan's only ally in his continuous search for Anakin - the only sympathetic ear - turns out to be Chancellor Palpatine.

******

"I know we've had our… differences in the past, Master Kenobi," Palpatine says, voice kind, sympathetic. He is standing by the large window overlooking Coruscant, looking very much like a concerned, elderly uncle, and not the most powerful man in the galaxy. "But there has always been one thing we've had in common." 

At Obi-Wan's carefully guarded look, Palpatine sighs. "You must know I have always had nothing but Anakin's best interests at heart. His... disappearance grieves me deeply."

"I am grateful for your concern, Chancellor," Obi-Wan says, stifling his impatience and rising irritation. He shifts imperceptibly in the large plush chair, wondering what is the true motive behind Palpatine's invitation. "Especially in these dire times. I cannot imagine you have much time for anything besides the war effort."

"Nonsense." Palpatine waves his hand dismissively, walking closer. "I will always find time for the heroes of the Republic. Although, it saddens me to hear the Jedi are thinking of declaring Anakin dead. Despite your claims to the contrary."

Anger rises from the pit of Obi-Wan's chest - sudden and nearly overwhelming - making the large desk in the middle of the opulent Chancellor's officer creak ominously.

Inhaling deeply, Obi-Wan forces himself under control, letting go of the anger strangling his lungs and gnawing at his heart.

It is… not as easy as it used to be. As it should be. 

The anger - cold, dark and cloying - seems to cling to his very bones, rising unbidden and unwanted at the slightest provocation, poisoning his very soul.

"The Council does what they think is right," Obi-Wan says, voice carefully blank. Keeping the bitterness of resentment locked tight within his heart. "These are… trying times for all of us."

"I hope, for Anakin's sake, that they reconsider," Palpatine says, placing a reassuring hand against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "For my part, I offer my unequivocal aid in your quest, Master Kenobi. Unofficial, of course, as I am sure you understand."

A chill slithers down Obi-Wan's spine, the light touch of the Chancellor's hand feeling stifling and heavy all of a sudden.

And yet, Obi-Wan doesn't pull away. 

******

As days go by, dragging on endlessly forward, Obi-Wan grows increasingly restless and frustrated.

Meditation is an exercise in futility, and rest seems like a foreign concept.

Sleep eludes him, which is a… good thing. Dreams that plague him when his mind finally yields to the demands of his body are agony in its purest form.

His search for Ventress is one failed attempt after another.

And the Code by which he had lived most of his life seems to mock him.

There is no peace, no serenity for him, and even the thought of never seeing Anakin again makes him want to tear the galaxy to pieces, until he has Dooku at his mercy.

He is slipping, slowly but surely, toward the dark; too angry and too tired to summon the will to care.

If his soul is the price of having Anakin back, with him, where he belongs… well. 

Obi-Wan will pay it. Gladly.

******

"This information is reliable?" Obi-Wan asks, unable to mask the trembling of his voice. But it has been long - too long - since he's felt anything even close to hope. "You are certain?"

"Under different circumstances, I would be offended by your doubt, Master Kenobi," the Chancellor says mildly. "But I know how much young Anakin means to you. How invested you are in his safe return."

Obi-Wan bows his head in apology, barely listening to Chancellor's words, ignoring a small voice in the back of his mind that advises caution, warning him of the suspicious serendipity of Palpatine's discovery. 

Everything fades to the background - doubts, questions, caution, duty - as Obi-Wan's entire focus shifts to the datapad in his unsteady hands, his heartbeat a deafening roar in his ears. He reads and re-read the words, until they are branded into his memory, all but vibrating with excitement as he stares at the most important information in the entire wretched galaxy.

Dooku's current location.

******

When Obi-Wan arrives at the location Palpatine had given him, he is certain that coming here had been a mistake.

As much as a lavish villa on a secluded island is exactly what one would expect of Dooku's temporary hideaway, _this one_ looks unkempt for and abandoned for more than the entirety of Obi-Wan's life.

A flicker of doubt enters Obi-Wan's thoughts as he walks through the inner courtyard, his boots echoing loudly against the stone slabs, but he breathes past it, his fingers brushing against the hilt of his lightsaber for reassurance.

If this is a trap or just another wild bantha chase, it matters little: Obi-Wan had risked his life for decidedly less important causes. 

As it turns out, it is not a wild bantha chase. 

As Obi-Wan enters the villa's large foyer, he comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes zeroing on the tall figure coming down the winding stairs, something vicious and hungry rising from the pit of his stomach: a snarling beast, ravenous for blood.

"Master Kenobi," Dooku says, the look of genuine surprise flicking across his face for a fraction of a second. It is replaced by the familiar haughty expression as Dooku reaches the foot of the stairs, his cape rustling loudly in the perfect silence of the foyer. "I must admit, I haven't been expecting _you._ " He inclines his head to the side, studying Obi-Wan silently, his lips curving into an amused smile. "Curious. You reek of the dark, Kenobi. How did that happen, I wonder."

Obi-Wan's lips pull over his teeth, his control a brittle, tenuous thing. "Where is Anakin?" Obi-Wan snarls, his lightsaber humming to life.

"Ah. So you are here for the welp. How disappointing."

Obi-Wan's vision flashes red, but he manages to restrain himself from attacking. He moves forward deliberately, his lightsaber pointed at Dooku. "Tell me where he is, and I will consider sparing your life."

Dooku unclips his lightsaber from his belt, but doesn't ignite it as he matches Obi-Wan's step with his own.

"A death threat? Is that what the Order has come to lately?" 

"I won't ask again, Dooku," Obi-Wan says, voice deadly serious as he takes another step forward, his eyes fixed on Dooku who steps to the side, keeping the distance between them. "Where is my apprentice?"

"I care not for that uncouth loudmouth," Dooku says, disdain clear on his face. "But I do wonder what makes you so certain I had anything to do with Skywalker's disappearance. And just how did you manage to find this place?"

"I am not here to indulge your curiosity."

"Very well then," Dooku says, igniting his lightsaber with a flourish. "It seems you have forgotten the outcome of our previous duel. It will be a pleasure to remind you of it."

"No," Obi-Wan grits out, his eyes narrowing as memories of Anakin's shocked expression as Dooku severed his hand flash before his mind's eye. "I haven't."

Obi-Wan springs into motion, rage boiling inside his veins. His attacks are vicious, deadly, but every one of them is easily parried by Dooku's red blade.

"You should see yourself," Dooku taunts as he sidesteps Obi-Wan's blow aimed for his middle. "No focus, no control, only mindless rage. I am disappointed. I expected better from you, Kenobi."

With a snarl of rage, Obi-Wan doubles his attacks, but his moves are wild and uncontrolled. Sloppy. 

Pain sears through him as Dooku slashes across his chest, a pained groan slipping past his lips as he sinks to one knee, his lightsaber falling from his hand.

"Now, Kenobi," Dooku says as he brings the tip of his lightsaber close to Obi-Wan's throat, Obi-Wan's own lightsaber springing obediently into Dooku's free hand. "I think it is time you answer my questions."

Obi-Wan looks up at Dooku, feeling the bile gather at the back of his throat as the reality of his position sinks in: defeated, disarmed, helpless. 

"Just tell me one thing," Obi-Wan says, his voice roughened by pain and mounting despair. "What have you done with Anakin?"

"I have never been interested in Skywalker," Dooku replies, curling his mouth with disdain. "Abundance of raw power, yes, but lacking finesse and vision." Dooku pauses, arching one eyebrow sardonically. "Well, I suppose he would have made a fine attack dog. But now we will never know."

Something snaps inside Obi-Wan, the final fissure in a long since cracked dam; one that had been erected around the most secret part of Obi-Wan's soul. 

Darkness - viscous and frigid - seeps into his blood, his mind, his soul. It feels nothing like the mindless rage from moments before. _That_ had only made him sloppy and reckless. Unfocused. 

_This_ , though. This is power, immense and unrelenting, flowing through and around Obi-Wan, power the likes of which Obi-Wan had not felt before. 

And it is his for the taking. Obi-Wan needs only to reach out and use it.

He hesitates, aware that - despite everything he has done until this moment - should he do this, there will be no turning back.

But if the choice is between Anakin's life and his very soul… well. It is no contest. No contest at all.

Obi-Wan thrusts his hand, distantly noting the almost comical expression of startled surprise on Dooku's face as he flies backwards, his back colliding with the wall with a loud thump, his lightsaber falling from his hand.

Obi-Wan rises to his feet, the Force flowing through him in icy rivulets. It doesn't feel… evil, it just feels like power, every cell in his body energized with it, the burn of his wound nearly an afterthought.

Obi-Wan curls the fingers of his outstretched hand inwards, calmly watching as Dooku's eyes grow wide in alarm, his fingers scrambling futilely at his throat.

"Where is Anakin?" Obi-Wan asks, striding toward Dooku with slow, purposeful steps.

Dooku wheezes and shakes his head, trashing in Obi-Wan's invisible grip, spilling wild panic into the Force.

Obi-Wan eases his grip on Dooku's throat minutely, extending his other hand. A moment later, a metallic hilt slaps onto his palm, his fingers closing around it. He ignites it, faintly surprised as the blade glows red, instead of the familiar blue.

"One more chance, Dooku. Where is Anakin?"

"I- I do not have him," Dooku manages to choke out, the Force ringing with the truth of it. "I never did."

Obi-Wan releases a long breath, his chest suddenly feeling hollow, bereft of hope, warmth and life.

"I see," he says quietly, feeling as if his entire being is wreathed with ice. "Then I suppose I have no further use for you."

Dooku's eyes flash with raw, unmasked dread a second before Obi-Wan swings Dooku's lightsaber, decapitating Dooku with one, clean stroke. 

Obi-Wan slowly lowers the lightsaber, expecting to feel… something. Guilt, regret, shame, satisfaction, relief, anything really. But nothing rises to fill the yawning emptiness inside his chest, surprisingly heavy for its lack of substance.

"Red suits you well, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turns sharply in the direction of the faintly familiar voice just in time to see a hooded figure emerge from the shadows.

Obi-Wan frowns, pointing the red blade at the newcomer, a sense of unease breaking through the void that has taken residence within the confines of his ribcage.

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan demands sharply, his entire body going tense.

"Why, Master Kenobi," the stranger says in a light, almost amused voice, lowering his hood. "Don't you recognize an old friend?"

A sharp sound of surprise escapes Obi-Wan's throat, his lungs freezing for an instant as he stares at the familiar face, his gut twisting with a dawning horror.

"Chancellor?" Obi-Wan manages to force past the lump in his throat. "What- What are you doing here?"

Palpatine flicks a brief glance at Dooku's severed head, his mouth curving into a cruel smile. 

"First I would like to thank you for ridding me of a nuisance," Palpatine remarks in a conversational tone that sends a shiver down Obi-Wan's spine. "He was becoming bothersome as of late."

Obi-Wan inhales sharply, his scattered thoughts coalescing into a terrible but inescapable truth.

"You're the second Sith," Obi-Wan breathes out, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Dooku's lightsaber as all pieces of the puzzle settle into place, revealing a terrible picture of lies, deceit and manipulation on a galactic scale. "Dooku's Master."

Obi-Wan shakes his head, as if trying to ward off the horrifying truth of the war that has been raging through the galaxy for more than a year. 

"The war," Obi-Wan says, his voice trembling faintly. Slowly, he lowers Dooku's lightsaber. "It was staged from the beginning, was it not?"

Palpatine smiles, a near perfect replica of his warm, grandfatherly smile were it not for the sharp glint in his eyes. "The last piece on the board game."

Obi-Wan blinks, feeling faintly ill. All this time… all this time they have been taking orders from a Sith. Fighting and dying on the enemy's whims. Blind to the truth.

"And what is your endgame?"

Palpatine gives him an amused look. "Surely you don't expect me to reveal my plans without some sort of collateral."

"And what could I possibly offer as a collateral?"

"A pledge of allegiance," Palpatine states, voice perfectly calm. He gestures in the direction of Dooku's corpse. "As you can see, I am in need of an apprentice."

"I would never join you," Obi-Wan says, voice harsh. He lifts the lightsaber, pointing the blade at Palpatine.

Palpatine spreads his hands, indicating their surroundings, the look in his eyes almost condescending. "We are alone here, Master Kenobi. There is no need for theatrics."

"What theatrics?" Obi-Wan spits out, matching Palpatine's step to the side with one of his own, keeping his gaze fixed on him.

"You, still pretending to be a Jedi," Palpatine says, his eyes glinting with wicked glee. "Don't you think I haven't felt the dark clinging to you? Ever since you killed Maul?"

"Maul?" Obi-Wan repeats, his heart drumming wildly against his breastbone, the burn of his wound turning from a distant ache into a searing pain. "The Zabrak from Naboo?"

"My first apprentice," Palpatine remarks, halting his steps. "You seem to have a knack for disposing me of apprentices." A sharp, malicious expression twists his features. "Even potential ones."

Obi-Wan freezes in place, his heart stuttering in his chest. "Anakin," Obi-Wan exhales, remembering all those times Palpatine had insisted on Anakin's company. All those invitations, gifts, promises… and to what end? "You wanted Anakin to be your apprentice."

Palpatine doesn't bother with denial. "What better choice than the Chosen One, don't you agree?"

Obi-Wan's vision flashes red. "I will kill you," he grits out vehemently, taking a step forward. "I promise you that."

"And what about Anakin? Are you willing to risk his life?"

Obi-Wan halts in his tracks, air freezing in his lungs. Slowly, he lowers the lightsaber. "You have Anakin."

"A gift," Palpatine says, his eyes gleaming with something akin to hunger. "For my future apprentice."

"Anakin is no one's property," Obi-Wan hisses, incensed. "Least of all yours."

"But he is _yours_ , is he not? Tell me something, Master Kenobi. Did you wait to take him to bed until he was Knighted, or did you bed your underage Padawan?"

Obi-Wan feels ill, the implications of Palpatine's discovery seeping into his veins like poison. 

"I want him back," Obi-Wan says, but his voice comes out brittle and hollow.

"Then you know what to do."

"No. I may not be a Jedi any longer," Obi-Wan says, the truth of his words burning like hot coals inside his throat. "But I am no Sith."

Something shifts in the air around Palpatine, his eyes flashing gold. "I am offering you a place at my side as my apprentice, and power Jedi can only dream about." Palpatine pauses, his mouth curving over his teeth. "And Anakin. Tell me, Master Kenobi, do you honestly think the Jedi would ever let you take him away? As corrupt as you have become? Let their Chosen One be tainted by a fallen Jedi? I think not."

Obi-Wan swallows thickly, the hilt of Dooku's lightsaber almost slipping from his trembling hand. "Shut up."

Palpatine smiles, a kind and utterly fake smile that makes Obi-Wan's stomach lurch violently. He crosses the space between them, grasping Obi-Wan's shoulder lightly. 

"You are no longer one of them, Obi-Wan." Palpatine's voice is soft, almost gentle, but his touch feels like a searing brand against Obi-Wan's flesh. "Only one of us will leave this place if you choose a devotion to an Order that has long since outlived it's time."

"And trust me," Palpatine's voice grows cold, an aura of bone-chilling darkness suffusing the air between them. "That certainly won't be you. I suppose, it boils down to whether or not you are willing to die, and let Anakin die, for those who will shun you the moment you step into the Temple?"

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, heedless of the danger, his entire world narrowing down to a single choice.

The Jedi or Anakin? His soul or Anakin?

The choice is… laughably easy to make. 

Obi-Wan is not afraid of dying. But to gamble with Anakin's life? He would burn the entire galaxy for the chance to hold Anakin once again. Sacrificing his soul is _nothing._

Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan extinguishes Dooku's lightsaber. He takes a deep breath, fixing Palpatine with an unblinking stare, burning with hate and resolve in equal measure. "One day, I will kill you for this."

Palpatine's eyes flash triumphantly. As if Obi-Wan had just given him a precious gift. "That is the way of the Sith. An apprentice becomes the Master by killing their Master." Pulling away and crossing his hands behind his back, Palpatine straightens fully and raises his eyebrows pointedly. "I gather you have come to a decision?"

Obi-Wan clenches his jaw, then slowly sinks to his knees, bowing his head. "Yes, Master, " Obi-Wan says, voice solemn.

And the Force trembles.


End file.
